Read The Foreigner for Free Online Page B

bottle of plum wine and two catties of mangosteens. A fluorescent tube hummed above me as the elevator doors slid open. I found Uncle’s apartment: Number 5R, a dented steel door with a faded banner above it, a remnant of the long-gone new year.
    At first there was no response to my knock. Then, after some time, the door opened reluctantly, and a suspicious, wizened old face peeped at me in the greenish light of the entryway. It made a hoarse, creaking noise like a hinge. I consulted the address.
    "Xiao P zai ma?"
I asked faintly. There was more creaking. "Um.
Bu dong. Wo tingbudong
."
    Finally, with a grunt and an exasperated motion, the old woman let me in. More creaking; she seemed to be berating me. Then abruptly she left, shuffling off into a shadowy back hall.
    I knew that Uncle had once been prosperous; the apartment had a quality of both stateliness and neglect, the floor not tile but a battered mahogany, the furniture a mix of magnificent old carved cabinets, junky sofas, a massage chair. Someone had cleared the coffee table and sideboard, pushing the ashtrays and betel nut–stained paper scraps aside to make room for what looked like a kind of party. Little bowls of wasabi peas had been laid out; rice crackers; dried fruit; a six-pack of Taiwan beer. In the background, a huge flat-screen TV flickered soundlessly. A bird in a wooden cage hung in the window, spilling seed with a soft flutter of wings.
    The bird screamed and knocked against its perch. I spun around as Little P came in from the entryway.
    "Who left the dead bolt off?" he said by way of greeting.
    "I don’t know. The old woman."
    "Fuck me. I’ve told her again and again." He closed the door behind him and bolted it, looking out the peephole briefly before he turned to me.
    "You want something to drink?" He put down the 7-Eleven bag and unpacked it: some beef jerky, sake, Oreos, fruit.
    "What’s all this?"
    "I figured, you know. Might be a while before I see you again. Why not make it a party. The cousins are coming." He fetched a plastic bowl and shook the Oreos into it haphazardly. "Drink? We got beer, wine."
    "Anything harder?"
    He looked irritated. "I just
bought
this." He checked himself. "But yeah, we got some whiskey."
    "Okay."
    "Homemade stuff. Pure poison."
    "Fine."
    He found two dirty-looking tumblers in the sideboard, wiping one with his finger before pouring out a large shot. His black eye was starting to turn a sickly shade, and his stitches rose up in a welt, an angry red worm.
    "Listen." I fingered my glass timidly. The liquor was as bad as he had said, sharp and toxic, like rubbing alcohol. "I want to talk to you."
    Instantly his guard was up; I could see it in the way he poured himself another shot, though he kept his voice light.
    "About?"
    "About the motel."
    He downed his drink, silent.
    "Don’t sell it, Little P. And don’t pretend that’s not your plan. I heard you yesterday."
    "More?" He got up, found another bottle in the sideboard.
    "I’m not saying you shouldn’t sell at all. But don’t put it on the market. Sell it to me."
    "To
you
?" He turned around, incredulous. "What kind of money do you have?"
    "Not much." I looked down into my glass. "I can give you four thousand as a down payment, and fifteen hundred a month from then on." Even I thought it sounded meager. "And you’ll have some rental income after expenses. Maybe I can take out a loan. But it’s all I have right now."
    He emptied the packet of beef jerky onto a tray and put it on the sideboard, not speaking.
    "I just need some time," I said. "If not for me, then do it for her."
    I tapped the box of ash softly.
    "What’s that?" asked Little P, looking suddenly wary.
    "This—?" I remembered: I hadn’t told him about the ashes yet. "It’s… She asked to be interred in Taiwan. It was part of her will. I thought you could help."
    "She’s in
there
?"
    I nodded.
    "Son of a double golden cunt." He retreated to the opposite side of the room and regarded me with